


Maritime

by DxTURA



Category: Original Work
Genre: god this is kind of bad, whatever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 15:46:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17083169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DxTURA/pseuds/DxTURA
Summary: A story about my character Fiddle, written for my Environmental Literature final.Originally posted in 2016.





	Maritime

Captain Eri’s daughter was the rumor child of Nautica Isle.

The noisy members of the Fishermen’s Guild always remarked about how she spent endless hours running out to the sand. Some of the lazy merchants that she greeted everyday nattered on about how she was wasting her time diving into the ocean to take a swim, while seamen picked on and teased her whenever they found her miscalculated jumps leading her into shallow water. No one asked her about her day, about her goals, or for the reason as to why she performed the same routine every day. They only commented about what looked to be lazy ambitions, and it was only when they couldn’t incite a reaction from her that they finally left her to her business.

They saw her as a child who refused to inherit her father’s crew and sea business, but in all actuality, she was working towards that future in her own way.

Her name was Fiddle, like the Fiddler crabs that only appeared in the saltiest of marshes on warm, summer days.

Every morning began with her in a bathing suit, bare feet, and bucket that she carried with both of her hands to the autumn-colored beach. She would unearth a shovel that she buried in the sand every night before returning home, and with that shovel she would excavate the land day by day. When the sullied plastic danced with the grainy lands, Fiddle found herself ready to explore.

She never seemed to mind when the gravel’s heat bit at the flats of her feet, nor was she bothered whenever she flopped to her knees to start her excavation. Fiddle was systematic in her work, always scooping the sand at least three times before drifting towards another part of the beach. A scoop to the left of her unearthed kelp-covered rocks that must have washed up to shore in the recent shift of tides, while raising the sand to her right revealed abandoned shells from the last set of hermit crabs that walked along the Nautica. She wasted no time in throwing the shovel to the side, leaving the rocks on the ground while she gently placed the three shells into her pail.

Those who didn’t know Fiddle as well as Eri did believed she was a child; they believed all her digging was to play in the sand before she was forced to follow her father from one island to the next, but it was all a lie.

Fiddle did not dig or swim because she wanted to be a child. Fiddle tread through waters to study crab life.

She spent her mornings digging in the sands, while her evenings were spent diving into the sea. Crabs were the symbol of Nautica, the animal that everyone gorged upon, and the creature that traveled for longer periods of time than any other sea animal they could find. The fishermen would complain about how Fiddle was wasting “perfectly good food” whenever she dove and caught the Jonah crabs that danced with their kin under the sea, but she found herself looking at their lifespans every six months or so. One set of neighbors, whom often traveled into the Eastern seas to catch the Scylla – a type of swimming crab – would always bring two or three for Fiddle to house while using the rest to feed their family.

She returned to her home, the ship Eri sailed, and put them all in comfortable tanks with alternating temperatures. Questions always rose in her mind when she analyzed new additions to her crab collection. What were their adventures like? How far did they travel? Whenever Fiddle noticed one of the crabs falling ill, she always asked herself about the possible causes.

The captain returned from running errands in town every night, eyeing her care towards the crabs while simultaneously documenting shapes and sizes in a nearby sketchbook. When the moon rose into the sky Fiddle would feed them all once more, cease her doodling, and wish her father goodnight before dozing off in her chambers nearby.

Despite her interest in the creatures, Eri seldom found his daughter smiling. Initially he believed it was because of how eager he was to pass his titles to her after death, and later convinced himself it was because she was lacking the care of her mother. When asking Fiddle about it a few months ago, she shook her head.

Her response was short. “Blue crab.”

Eri asked her to elaborate, and she said it again. “Blue crab.”

He peered into her bright blue eyes, but they said nothing. They revealed no hint of emotion, neither did they give him the answer he was seeking – leading him to an uncomfortable silence.

Fiddle looked away and leaned back against the wall they were near. “Nautica’s symbol is the Blue crab. They call it the _Portunus Pelagicus_ , but I have never in my life found it while I worked!”

The unnerving aura around his daughter finally broke, but she didn’t allow him to speak until she was done.

She kicked at the wall as she continued. “All of those books you gave me featured the Blue crabs, but I found no information on them even after I skimmed through all of our library’s resources. They’re like a legend now, and I don’t understand. If we like these crabs so much, why does it sound like they’ve disappeared off our radar?”

She didn’t expect him to answer, and her father didn’t have an answer – not an answer she would’ve liked. He was alive during the time Nautica declared the blue crab to be their national animal, their reasoning behind it revolving around how rare the creature was due to the sudden trend of overfishing. From fishers to merchants, to the poachers that hopped from isle to isle the blue crabs were sharply decreasing in number, and there wasn’t much that could be done.

He remembered the government trying to pass laws, but flimsy paperwork did nothing to resolve the situation. He remembered the mayor fining several citizens for taking the crabs from the seas, but they persisted with their behavior. It wasn’t long before the creature ended up dying out, and the national animal became nothing more than a symbol.

He couldn’t tell her about this tragedy, and he felt that it wasn’t in his place to tell her any of it. He reached over to pat her on the back, shrugging as he finally took the chance to speak.

“I’m sure they’re still out there.” He was lying through his teeth, “I’m sure they are traveling right now, and they will be back before you know it.”

They would never come back. They would never come back and it was only a matter of time before Fiddle knew.

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, if I had to compare "Different" to "Maritime," I felt like I had a lot more fun and improved waaay more on this character with "Different" than here. Still, thank you for reading some of my old writing!


End file.
